Meg Cabot - Twilight

But Father Dominic's sentiments seemed right in line with my dad's. Jesse had died too young, too violently. He had a right to a second chance at life. It was morally reprehensible of me to stand in the way of that.

Maybe Father D had other reasons to be feeling upbeat. The monsignor had come out of his coma and seemed to be recuperating nicely.

"Huh," I said as Father D imparted this supposedly joyous news. "That's great, Father D. Now, about Paul - "

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Susannah," he said. "I'll admit it was wrong, what he did to his grandfather - if, indeed, he really did - "

"He said he did, Father D," I interrupted. "Well, almost."

"Yes," Father Dominic said. "Well, the two of you do have a tendency to, er, exaggerate the truth somewhat - "

"Father Dom," I said, my fingers tightening on the receiver. "I called the ambulance myself."

"So you said. Still, Susannah, for Paul to do this thing - this time-travel thing you spoke of - I understand he'd have to put himself in the exact spot where the person he wishes to see was once standing during the exact time he wishes to travel back to."

"Yeah," I said. "So?" I wasn't usually so rude to Father Dom, but this was, you have to admit, an extenuating circumstance.

"So wouldn't that mean Paul would have to travel from your bedroom?" Father Dominic sounded a bit distracted. That's because he was. He was packing to come back home. He was planning on driving back to Carmel that very night. "Isn't that where Diego killed Jesse? Your room? It's rather unlikely Paul is going to be able to get into your bedroom, Susannah," he went on. "Not without your permission."

I nearly dropped the phone. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe this hadn't occurred to me before.

Because Father Dominic was right, There was no way Paul was traveling back to the night Jesse died . . . not unless he did a little breaking and entering. Because that was the only way he was getting into my room. The only way.

"I hadn't thought of that," I said with a growing feeling of relief. "But you're right. Oh my God, you're totally right. Father Dominic, you're a genius!"

"Er," Father Dominic said. "Thank you, Susannah. I suppose. Although if you were to do the right thing, you'd allow Paul in and let Jesse live out his life naturally, as he was meant to - "

"Um," I said. I'd heard this tune before, one too many times. Fortunately, the call-waiting went off at that very moment. Perfect timing.

"Oops, that's my other line, Father D," I said. "Gotta go. See you when you get back."

I hung up the phone, feeling better than I had since . . . well, since the auction that afternoon. Jesse was safe. Paul couldn't make him disappear, because to do so, he'd have to have access to my bedroom. How else was he going to find his way back to 1850?

He needed to have a place to stand, somewhere that existed in both 1850 and the present. Somewhere Felix Diego had once stood. Where was he going to go? The mall?

"Hello?" I said, clicking over to the other call.

"Suze?" It was CeeCee, sounding breathless with excitement. "Oh my God, you'll never believe what just happened."

"What?" I asked, not actually paying attention. Because, really, where else could Paul go, if not my bedroom?

"He asked me." CeeCee's voice was actually trembling. "Adam. Adam asked me to the Winter Formal. We're just at the Coffee Clutch, you know, having cappuccinos - we'd have asked you, only I know you were at the auction all day - "

"Uh-huh," I said.

" - and he just asked me. Out of the blue. I had to run outside and call you. He's still inside. I just . . . Oh, my God. I had to tell someone. He asked me."

Besides, it isn't like Paul is going to be able to do it anytime soon, anyway. Go back through time, I mean. Not with his grandfather in the hospital.

"That is so great, CeeCee," I said into the phone. "I guess I should go back in and say yes," CeeCee said. I should say yes, right? Or should I play hard to get? I don't want him to think I'm too eager. And it is next weekend. Technically, he should have asked me a long time ago - "

Suddenly, I focused on what CeeCee was saying.

And laughed.

"CeeCee," I said. "Are you nuts? Hang up the phone, go inside, and say yes."

"I should, shouldn't I? I just . . . I mean, I've been wanting this to happen for so long, and now it is, and I . . . well, I just can't believe it. . . ."

"CeeCee."

"Hanging up now," CeeCee said. And the line clicked.

He and Kelly had looked pretty . . . friendly on that couch. Maybe he'd given up. Maybe he was over the whole "us" thing.

Maybe now my life would go back to normal.

Maybe . . .

Chapter twelve

"This is by the same director who made Jaws ?" Jesse wanted to know. "I don't believe it."

Saturday night. Date night.

And, okay, though technically Jesse and I can't exactly go out (how could we, really?), Jesse does come over most Saturday nights. True, it isn't as romantic as dinner and a movie. And true, we have to be really quiet, so my family won't suspect I'm not alone in my room.

But at least we get to be together.

And yeah, on this particular Saturday night, I had a lot on my mind, none of which I had any intention of mentioning to Jesse.

But that didn't mean we couldn't spend a couple of hours watching videos. Jesse has a lot of catching up to do, movie-wise, considering the fact that they hadn't even been invented back when he'd been alive.

His favorite so far is The Godfather . I was hoping to cure him of this weakness by showing him E.T . How could anyone prefer Don Corleone over a six-year-old Drew Barrymore?

But Drew barely managed to hold Jesse's attention.

" Jaws is much better than this," Jesse said.

Jaws is another one of Jesse's favorites. He doesn't even like the right parts, either. He likes the part where all the men are showing one another their scars. Don't ask me why. I guess it's a guy thing.

Finally, I turned E.T . off and went, "Let's just talk."

By which, of course, I meant "Let's make out."

Which was working out very nicely until Jesse quit kissing me at one point and said, "I almost forgot. What was Paul doing at the Mission tonight? Has he found religion?"

This was so outlandish that I pulled my arms from around his neck and went, " What ?"

"Your friend Paul," Jesse said. I may have let go of him, but he wasn't letting go of me. While this was nice, it was also just a little distracting. Especially the way his lips were still moving along mine. "I saw him a little while ago in the basilica . . . which was closed, you know. Why would he be there after hours, do you think? He hardly seems the type to be considering a career in the priesthood. Unless he suddenly received his calling. . . ."

I wrenched myself away from him.

Well, if you'd suddenly been seized by stark white terror, you'd have done the same thing.

"Susannah?" Jesse stared at me, concern filling his dark brown eyes where just a few seconds earlier there'd been . . . well, not concern. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, God." How could I have been so stupid? How, how, how ? Here I was, watching movies - movies - with my boyfriend, never suspecting a thing. Thinking Paul would have to come here to the house if he wanted to travel back to Jesse's time. Thinking he wouldn't be able to go back if he didn't. Thinking he wouldn't dream of going back tonight, with his grandfather in the hospital. Thinking he and Kelly were together now, so why would he bother?

Paul didn't care about his grandfather. He didn't care about anyone in his family and never had.

And he certainly didn't care about Kelly. Why should he? Kelly didn't understand him, Kelly didn't know what he really was. . . .